A Need For Sleeping Bags
by Ditto Redeaux
Summary: So I'm doing something a bit different than what I have been, I'm going to be doing these writing dump type of things, and the initial plans were to do something like drabble arcs, but that didn't happen, so this will be a story comprised of all different bits of pieces of varying length and styles and styles. This is starting off pre-series. Teen for now. R
1. Not Unusual

_So I'm doing something a bit different, I'm going to be doing these writing dump type of things, and the initial plans were to do something like drabble arcs, but that didn't happen, so this will be a story comprised of all different bits of pieces of varying length and styles and styles, a dump story of sorts. This is starting off pre-series._

_I don't own anything pertaining to the Roswell/Roswell High universe._

_D.R._

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163 words~ Not Unusual

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Max had grown accustomed to Michael climbing through his bedroom window at ungodly hours. He pretended to despise the interruptions to his sleep, but in reality, when Michael was curled up on the floor next to him, Max knew he was okay. When Michael hadn't come over in a week, Max became rather concerned. He hid it better than Isabel, whose tone had become decidedly whiney as she begged their mother one morning to try calling Hank again. Max had tried to tell her that it wasn't like it was unusual for Michael to skip classes, but she wouldn't listen. Max didn't exactly blame her, but in the end, he knew that it was probably better for Michael if they didn't raise Hank's ire more than it perpetually was. Michael had said his presence did that enough on its own. Their mother apparently figured that one too as she refused to let Isabel go to Michael's house to demand to see their friend.


	2. Doe Eyes

_Much love to you all._

_D.R._

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94 words~ Doe Eyes

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"Max! _Maxwell_." Isabel was snapping her fingers at Max trying to get his attention.

He blinked tiredly at her, "What?"

She sighed exasperatedly, "Have you heard from Michael at all?" She iterated slowly before rolling her eyes, "Thinking about a certain brunette with doe eyes, are we Maxwell?" The query was snide and not at all hushed which of course drew Diane's attention.

He looked back and forth between Isabel and his adoptive mother before scowling down at his bowl and shoving a mouthful of golden grahams in his mouth with a muttered "No."


	3. Someone to Care

_Read and Review my lovelies, read and review._

_D.R._

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149 words~ Someone to Care

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Michael didn't show up at school again that day, and Isabel was starting to wear on Max's already frayed nerves. She was prepared to stage a stakeout at the trailer park if she had to. Diane eventually convinced her that if Michael wasn't in school the following Monday, she would drive to the trailer park herself and make sure he was okay. She didn't always approve of Michael Guerin, who in her opinion was from the wrong side of the tracks even if by no fault of his own, but she grudgingly accepted how important he was to her children. They were practically inseparable. Anyways, he was only a boy, and boys shouldn't miss nearly a week and a half of school without stirring some notice. There had to be someone at home who was noticing that he wasn't going to classes. There had to be someone to care.


	4. Paying Someone's Rent

_Hello my lovelies, here is the next chapter, R&R_

_D.R._

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150 words~ Paying Someone's Rent

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Michael didn't show up at school on Monday, and true to her word, Diane drove out to the trailer park that afternoon. "Phil, he-" Max could hear her sigh from his hideout on the stairs. She had been in a hyper maternal mode since she had gotten home that afternoon. "That's not a place to raise a child. There were broken bottles everywhere, and the whole place reeked of cigarettes." Isabel crept down to sit on the step next to Max.

"They're talking about Michael." He whispered as pots clanged in the sink below.

It would have been more accurate to say "They're talking about us." As her next words were "God Phillip, what if that had been Max and Issy?" she sounded close to tears and Isabel buried her face in Max's arm, "What if we hadn't found them first and they were taken just to pay someone's rent?"


	5. I'm Back, Deal With Me

_Read and Review my lovelies, read and review._

_D.R._

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241 words~ I'm Back, Deal With Me

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At around midnight Max was woken by the soft noise of bare feet against carpet. When he rolled over, however, it wasn't Michael who was standing there, eyes wide, arms wrapped around a pillow. Isabel's eyes were shining in the light from his alarm clock. It wasn't entirely unusual, though it had become a less frequent occurrence in the last five years. Before, back when they were nine, she had come in crying nearly nightly after mom and dad had fallen asleep until the day that Michael Guerin showed up in class.

That had been an interesting day to say the least. It had been halfway through the fourth grade. The first time Max met his eyes Michael had stared back with a smug half smirk as if to say, "I'm back, deal with me." He had had his arms crossed over his chest and was leaning against a tree. Isabel had practically tackled him on sight, not that Michael seemed to mind that much. Even then he was already smart mouthed with spiky hair and a bad attitude that got him in trouble with almost all adults.

Isabel climbed into bed next to Max, they didn't have to say anything, it didn't take telepathy to know that words weren't needed, that the only thing she wanted was to not be alone with her thoughts. A soft scratching outside of the window though, a few hours later, disturbed their mingled breaths.


	6. Smart Enough Not to Ask

_Read and Review my lovelies, read and review._

_D.R._

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228 words~ Smart Enough Not to Ask

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"Michael!" It was Isabel's soft exclamation that dug into Max's consciousness. Suddenly he was yanked from his sleep induced state by a frantic "Oh my god, _Michael_! Max, get up!" and the feeling of Isabel climbing over him to get to the window as his eyes were invaded by the blinding glow of his bedside lamp. It took him a moment to adjust to the sudden flood of light. His best friend looked like shit; there was no doubt about it. He was covered in splotches of blood, bruises, and there was dirt smudged across one pale cheek. It was the way he was holding himself though that was more worrisome, that and the haunted look in his eyes. He looked like he was trying not to curl in on himself, and he was moving about gingerly which, given how Michael was, wasn't a good omen. He flinched when Isabel accosted him a short distance away from the window, nearly sending both of them to the ground. She was searching him for damages, when she ran a hand over a particularly dark bruise covering broken ribs, she gasped, "Max, go get mom! Oh my god, Michael, what happened?" Max had seen his friend come in with worse, but he was smart enough not to ask, not when the answer was so obvious after seeing it so many times.


	7. No Matter How Drunk

_With special dedication to Gin, my first reviewer who probably wrote more in that review than I have in these chapters. I know they are short, but I hope you enjoy them anyways._

_I'm going to warn everyone now, this is probably going to take a turn for the darker and become more AU and more mature. My therapist suggested I try something like this a while back, so we'll see how it goes._

_ In the mean time, poor Michael._

_D.R._

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119 words~ No Matter How Drunk

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Isabel was dabbing at a cut over Michael's left eye while attempting to grill him for answers. "Was it Hank?" She pressed. "God Michael, why would he hurt you like this?"

Michael stayed her wrist with a firm hand, "It wasn't Hank." Max had already healed his ribs so he was a bit more comfortable, and they were both sitting on the bed. Max was hovering by the window, glaring out of it with a grim sort of determination, though for what, Michael wasn't sure. He glanced back when Michael said it _wasn't _Hank though. "Hank wouldn't do this, no matter how drunk he was." When Max looked back again Michael was staring at him with an unfathomable expression.


	8. Touching or Worrisome?

_Hello my lovelies, here is the next chapter, R&R_

_D.R._

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169 words~Touching or Worrisome?

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Diane wasn't sure if the scene before her was touching or worrisome. Her fifteen year old daughter was in bed with another boy. Sure, the boy in question was Michael Guerin, and Max was on the other side of him, but still. Isabel was fitted tightly along the boy's spine, an arm curled nearly protectively over him; her face nestled into his bare shoulder. Max's hand was resting on Michael's arm, and he was curled towards his friend. Diane almost thought about taking a picture when Isabel's eyes fluttered open and locked with her mother's. Diane held the door open a bit wider and gestured at her watch. Isabel smiled in an almost wistful way as she carded a hand through Michael's hair and brushed her lips against the boy's temple before waking her brother on the way out. It took a great deal of self-restraint not to go whack Michael on the head a few times with Max's bat after that display of tender affection from her daughter.


	9. Some Cheap Floozy

_Hello my lovelies, here is the next chapter, R&R_

_D.R._

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221 words~Some Cheap Floozy

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Diane and Isabel weren't exactly arguing, but by the time Max got downstairs, there was an uncomfortable silence hanging thickly in the air. "Maxwell, honey." Diane's voice was strained "When did Michael get here?" The real underlying question was why. Max shrugged, his mouth full of toast, "Well, is everything okay? Is he in some sort of trouble?"

Judging by how teary Isabel's eyes were, it would have been pointless to tell her that everything was fine as Is had confirmed otherwise, so Max just offered another shrug. It wasn't his place to tell her, not that he had any real answers anyways. Michael hadn't been exactly forthcoming. Isabel kept glancing to the ceiling periodically, as though wishing she could still see their friend, like something could happen to him while he was so close.

Michael made his appearance a bit later. Diane had to call his name to keep the spikey haired teen from escaping outside through the front door. "Sprinklers." He offered by way of explanation to Max who had cocked his head slightly to the left and lifted an eyebrow inquisitively. Isabel had to hide a smile behind her napkin. The single word explained her mother's impromptu trip outside a few minutes before as well as why Michael had not succeeded in sneaking out like some cheap floozy.


	10. Hormones?

_Hello my lovelies, here is the next chapter, R&R_

_D.R._

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332 words~ Hormones?

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Michael had been off all through breakfast. Even Michael wouldn't have been able to come up with a better word for the strange sensation. He pushed around the scrambled eggs Diane put in front of him.

"Michael?" Max querried between bites of cereal as Diane stared on, eyes shining with a ridiculous amount of motherly concern. Michael snatched the bottle of tabasco quickly drowning the eggs with it and immediately shoved a bite in his mouth, anything to make them stop staring at him as if he had escaped from some zoo. He regretted the action as soon as the food passed his lips though, the general malaise from earlier exploded into a full body revolt as he dropped his fork and bolted for the bathroom.

If Isabel had been put out when Michael locked the bathroom door and hoarsely told her to go away, she was even more so when her mother refused to let her stay home with him. It had actually lead to a full blown temper tantrum complete with a door slam followed by a frustrated scream.

Max had shrugged and offered up "Hormones?" as a suggestion to his mother's look at him, as though he was supposed to understand what went on in his sister's head at all times. Her outbursts had been happening more frequently, and that was normally a pretty good answer. Max didn't want to leave either, and by the time Isabel stormed back down the stairs ready for round two, Diane was ready to field off both of them.

"What that boy needs is mindless cartoons, tea, and plenty of rest." She informed them, "Max, you should pick up his books and assignments, and Issy, I promise he will be here when you get home, but if you even think about skipping school, I'll make sure you don't leave this house either for a long time young lady." Her tone left little room for argument and finally they both got onto the bus.


End file.
